Red Moon
by See Jane Conform
Summary: HP/BTVS Crossover- Remus investigates a new evil in Sunnydale (or "What's the deal with Willow and Werewolves?) *Remus/Willow
1. In Which The Plot Is Set Up Quite Conven...

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A/N: I felt it was only right to warn the readers that I've never actually **read** a Harry Potter book in my life. I saw the movie- once- a while ago. My weird obsession with Alan Rickman however, lead me to Harry Potter sites (in search of audio files, etc.) which introduced me to Harry Potter fanfiction would eventually gave me the idea to write my own… sort of. I did do my homework concerning the matter, but all my information is coming from secondary sources so I apologize a head of time for any inaccuracies. 

Something was coming. 

Every fiber in his body screamed the frustratingly vague feeling that _something_ was coming. 

Every time he drew on his magic he could feel it, an indefinable taint. As threatening and terrifying as Voldemort was, he was understandable. This- this was beyond his comprehension.

It was darker then darkness. It was more then the absence of light. It was as if it was beyond the realm of good and evil. It was incomparable to anything he'd faced before. It was the base of corruption, timeless and inescapable and unnatural and wrong….

And it was coming.

Red Moon

by SJC

Remus Lupin wondered yet again where the hero impulses he'd been fighting for the past decade had come from. Some would say the foolish courage had always existed, he had been a Gryffindor hadn't he? But he didn't quite remember being this brave in his youth. 

Brave wasn't the exact word he was thinking of, but it sure sounded better then the others on the tip of his tongue like stupid, idiotic, moronic… He didn't really need to go on, did he? 

But regardless of what caused it, he was undoubtedly now a card-carrying member of the Reckless & Rash Heroes Society. A fact he blamed whole-heartedly for his current situation.

Something big, bag and nasty was coming. That was no secret to anybody in the wizarding community. What was, however, not known was what exactly it was, and when it was arriving. With the very real fight against Voldemort continuing furiously, there wasn't enough to spare to mount defenses to some intangible threat across the ocean. Surely if it wasn't for the responsibilities in their own battle, Dumbledore and countless others would be devoting themselves to this more recent development. As it was though, all useful wizards were needed to fight in the very real war tearing up most of Wizarding Europe. Which left him to go investigate the newest menace on his own. Not that he was useless, mind you, but he might as well have been with how the stigma he carried due to his lycanthropy hindered him. 

So here he was, a lone werewolf on the hellmouth about an hour or two before the sun would set and a moon –_a full one, no less_- was set to rise, wondering what the hell he thought he could accomplish by himself.


	2. Where Remus Is A Voyeur And Buffy Is Not...

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A/N: I'm posting this as soon as I write it which means as it stands, it's probably riddled w/ mistakes. I'm just putting it up to get some feedback and should be able to replace it with a cleaner version in a day or two! 

Red Moon

by SJC

Remus attempted to suppress the urge to howl at the full moon and failed- miserably. 

Despite his previous convictions that'd it be the best to remain locked up tight in his hotel room while he was in his werewolf form, he was currently frolicking through Sunnydale Cemetery with a wolfish grin on his face. The negatives of his disease were overwhelming, but over the years he had come to realize by now that it was merely a part of who he was- a part that was enjoying stretching his legs in the cool night air. 

He tried to rationalize his evening out. It was just so he could attempt to nose out some information he wouldn't be able to get in human form, he told himself. It had _nothing _to do with the fact that despite the Wolfsbane potion he had imbibed, the forces of the hellmouth was making controlling his more primal side increasingly difficult. At least the logical part of his brain had directed his furry limbs towards the cemetery where he was less likely to run into anybody. 

Somehow he doubted muggles would be anymore sympathetic to his condition then his fellow wizards.

His entire body stopped still as a unique scent reached his sensitive nose. Not able to identify it immediately, the smell stirred odd feelings in his animalistic half. He had the vague urge to fight, flee, and hump somebody's leg all at the same time. 

Curiosity overriding the conflicting impulses, he followed the scent to find a small blonde woman holding her own against several fanged opponents. Despite her petite stature, she spun gracefully on one heel to develop a powerful kick to one of her foes sending him flying. She cracked her neck a little before turning to another one advancing on her. A strong blow to his face had the duel effect of producing a sickening cracking sound and a sadistic grin to her face. The fight continued, the vampires outnumbering the young woman, and yet it was clear that the odds were still in her favor. She was graceful and skilled, utilizing moves that had been in existence for thousands of years. 

The DADA teacher in him was captivated, finally recognizing her as the current in a long chain of Vampire Slayers. He had never had the opportunity to meet one, though he had studied them quite thoroughly while still a student, and included them in his curriculum during his brief stint at teaching. He knew enough to have expected the beast within him to be affected by her presence, but the mixed signals her scent was causing had caught him off guard. He backed up quietly to hide in the shadows, unable to deny himself the experience of watching her do what she was created to do. In his youth, he might have been shocked by the notion that something couldn't be learned from a book, but his maturity brought the wisdom to know better. 

Even as his eyes were trained on her fluid movements, his mind warred with the consequences of his discovery. Despite the intellectual thrill she provided, he was here for a purpose. Granted, the exact nature of his purpose eluded him, but he knew his primary function was to help. His studies told him that Vampire Slayer's concern themselves with eradicating all evil, not solely vampires. In that thread, she would more then likely already be aware of the impending doom. In fact, she might even have some information he didn't, and he surely had connections not available to her. The entire logical portion of his brain screamed that the smartest, most effective solution would be to tell her all he knew and propose they join forces. However, the logical portion of his brain wasn't in control at the moment

What was in control had quite a different opinion. They both agreed she fought more then just vampires. The question it had, was whether or not werewolves were on that list. As the answer to that was uncertain, the idea to seek her help was quickly vetoed. His condition provided him sufficient reason to not be fond of putting his life in the hands of someone with the name 'slayer' in her title. He watched her dust the remaining vampires before turning to leave. He wasn't about to stick around and let her catch sight of him.

A little pin prick should have alerted him to the fact that he wasn't all that successful, before everything went out of focus.


	3. A Chance To Catch Up On The Happenings O...

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A/N: Just a little more info on what's going on in the scooby world. Next chapter **should** see our two main characters meeting. 

Red Moon

by SJC

Buffy Summers was not having a good week. There was some big vague bad thing coming (and weren't those the most fun?), Spike had decided that insanity loves company and wouldn't leave her alone, Willow was back and despite the fact that she still loved her friend deeply, things were understandably awkward, and as if that wasn't enough- there was some new demon/werewolf/rabid animal-thing that was going around tearing up people. 

Wasn't it a blast being the slayer? 

The latest on her list of woes was what found her patrolling. The previous night the police reported a victim who had been 'torn apart, seemingly mutilated by a wild animal', and as it _was_ Sunnydale, the odds were telling her to replace 'wild' with 'supernatural. Dawn was researching in an attempt to feel useful, but they weren't overly optimistic seeing as there were a couple dozen or so creatures that could fit the profile they had. To be safe, Buffy brought along a tranquilizer gun and a sword in addition to the usual stakes. There was no telling what she'd need to kill it, and remembering her experiences with their own former-friendly-werewolf, there was no telling if she'd _need_ to kill it. 

So far she hadn't seen so much as a suspicious cat. 

Could this day get any worse?

As if in answer to her silent thought, a low growl alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone and she spun to face three vampires. They seemed relatively young and eager and she supposed that if the day _could_ get worse, it hadn't yet. If anything, she was looking forward to a chance to take out some of her frustrations. She spun around to kick the nearest vampire and make first contact. She hoped her opponents didn't mind that she wasn't in the mood for witty banter. 

The trio was far from any serious competition and she found her mind wandering to the attacks of the previous evening. She dodged an attack that came a bit too close and tried to drag her attention back to the fight. 

A distracted slayer was a dead slayer. 

She grabbed the back of the closest vamp and slammed his head into a tree, enjoying the smack of his hard head hitting the solid trunk. A prickly feeling born as much of experience as her unnatural abilities told her she was being watched, and though all three vampires regarded her with a hungry gaze, her intuition told her it was someone else. Deciding it was time to end the relatively one-sided fight, she stepped up her offensive and within a few minutes was surrounded by ashes. 

She avoided looking in the direction of her observer, and bent down to pick up the sword and tranquilizer gun she had dropped earlier. When each was safely in hand, she let her eyes search for her hidden company. She easily located the werewolf as it turned to leave and she cursed her luck. Of course the creature her conscience wouldn't let her kill had to be responsible for all this. The gun was already loaded and she effortlessly took aim and shot a dart into the backside of the retreating animal. It would have been so much easier had it been some demon she could have killed and been done with. With a sigh she heaved the massive beast over her shoulder and thanked Giles for suggesting she put a cage in her basement. 

You really never know when you'd need a good steel cage. 

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So? Feedback would be appreciated!


	4. The First Encounter Of Our Beloved Hero ...

Red Moon

by SJC

Buffy rubbed her eyes and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee offered to her. She had barely gotten Dawn and her to school on time and hadn't had a chance to try and cover the dark circles under her eyes with make-up. The fellow guidance counselor who handed Buffy the drink looked sympathetic.

"Rough night?" She asked.

"You could say that…" 

She hadn't gotten more then two or three hours of sleep after patrolling all night, not to mention lugging that werewolf all the way back to-

The blonde sat up quickly, all traces of tiredness erased. 

The werewolf! 

She lunged for the phone sitting on her desk, fumbling with it as her hands raced to put it to her ear and dial simultaneously. Deciding to save the self-flagellation for later, she settled instead on praying that Willow was still there. Her entire body relaxed visibly as Willow's unnaturally perky morning voice sounded over the phone.

"Willow! I need you to do me a huge favor."

Despite the witch's immediate affirmation, her voice was understandably cautious. 

"Sure, Buffy. What's up?"

The slayer looked around before lowering her voice to talk into the phone.

"There's a werewolf locked in the cage in the basement. I found him on patrol last night and tranquilized him. I totally forgot about it until just now."

"Oh! Do you think it was responsible for the killing?"

"I don't know. I definitely wouldn't rule it out."

Willow mulled over this latest bit of information for a moment.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know… I had planned on questioning it this morning but I woke up late…" 

"No problem, want me to see what I can get out of it?"

"Yeah, I hate to have to ask you…" Buffy trailed off as both young women recalled the pain Oz's betrayal had caused.

"It was a long time ago, I'll be fine."

"I owe you one, Will."

"Hey that's what friends are for."

"Interrogating werewolves? And here I was using them for support and companionship." She laughed then quickly looked around once more. This wasn't exactly a conversation she wanted anyone to overhear.

"Funny, now get back to work!"

"Yes ma'am. And you're sure you don't mind?"

"Buffy, it's ok. I'll call you if I find out anything important."

"If you're sure…"

"Goodbye." 

The dial tone sounded in her ear and she tried to send her friend some extra strength this morning. It was more then her slayer sense that told her Willow would need it.

*

Willow hung up the phone, a smile on her face from the ridiculousness of the conversation. The thought of what she had to do quickly wiped off any traces of brevity. Despite her reassurances to Buffy, this would be the first werewolf she would come in contact with since Oz and she wasn't entirely sure how she'd react. With all the tragedies since, she should be well over it. 

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Should being the operative word in the sentence.

With a sigh, she grabbed a glass of water and an aspirin for the headache he/she would undoubtedly be suffering as a side effect of the tranquilizers. As an after thought, she took a blanket as well in case Buffy hadn't thought to put one in the cage the night before. 

As it turned out, Buffy hadn't. The naked man lying on the floor of the basement told her as much. Without giving much thought to the intelligence of such an action, she unlocked the door to the cage and walked in, spreading the blanket over the man. The scene was all too familiar and she steeled herself against the pain the memories would bring. Her subconscious ignored the turmoil in her mind and instead noticed how attractive the man was, though the observation wouldn't be reflected on until some time later.

Her presence must have woken the man as his eyes shot open in surprise. He sat up quickly, then groaned as his body belatedly offered its protest. Willow offered a small smile, trying to convey sympathy and assurance. She moved slowly as not to startle him further, and offered him the water and aspirin. He took the glass without hesitation, but started suspiciously at the small capsule.

"It's just an aspirin- for your headache."

He mumbled something incoherent and took the pill warily. Reason told him that if she was out to hurt him, she could have done it while he was unconscious, though it might have just been his desperation to quell the pounding in his brain. Either way found the same end as he tossed the muggle-pain reliever to the back of his throat, trying to work his stiff muscles into swallowing. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and the water soon followed the path of the pill. 

"Who are you?" His voice came out hoarse as he struggled to his feet, wrapping the blanket around his waste. 

"Look, it's been a rough night and I'm sure we both have a great deal of questions. Why don't you come upstairs, I'll make some pancakes and we can talk this out?" 

She fidgeted nervously as his intense eyes studied her. He wasn't one to judge on appearances and knew that this was no time to drop his guard, even if alone with the slender beauty in front of him. Taking stock of his current situation found him standing in a steal cage with only a wool blanket wrapped around him and no recollection of how he ended up there. His wand was lying in his hotel room with his clothes, and he found the young women's smile alarmingly _disarming_. Adding up the factors, the odds for survival weren't in his favor. 

Despite all fact and reason, he found himself nodding his head in consent and following her out of the basement. 

*

It was easy to ignore the good looking man wearing Xander's clothes while she bustled around the kitchen making breakfast, but now that the task was done she was finding it impossible to come up with any more excuses to delay the impending conversation. 

With a sigh, she plopped the plate of pancakes down on the breakfast table and took a seat opposite him. 

"So…" She wasn't sure exactly how to start. She couldn't very well say, _"Hey, did you brutally tear someone apart with your teeth the other night? And if you did, what can we do to stop you?"_

She settled for asking his name instead.

"Remus Lupin," he volunteered the information easily, "And yours?" 
    
    "Willow."

The awkward silence reclaimed the room and she busied herself with transferring a pancake from the large tray onto her plate, trying to buy some more time.

"Pretty name," he offered politely, trying to ignore the flood of memories the word brought.

"Thanks."

Two sets of eyes wandered over the kitchen, one seeing it for the first time, the other just trying to avoid contact.

"So, been a werewolf long?" 

Remus snorted at Willow's attempt to break the ice but chose to ignore the question, posing one of his own instead.

"Am I making you nervous?"

She was silent long enough for him to begin to think she wouldn't answer before she finally spoke, carefully choosing her words. It wasn't any of his business that ever since Oz, any guy other then Xander or Giles made her nervous, or that the fact that she found him attractive had as much to do with her unease as his… affliction.

"I was… hurt… by a werewolf once. I suppose I hadn't dealt with it as well as I thought."

"I'm sorry." And he found he truly was. So long the victim of peoples prejudices, he had assumed that was the reason she had avoided looking directly at him. Now though, her guarded eyes met and held his, and irrationally he found himself longing to learn what other secrets they held.

She brushed off his apology without giving it much thought. "Look, the reason you're here is that there was a murder the other night where the victim was ripped open as if by a wild animal. I'm not accusing you of anything, there are any number of other explanations, but even if you aren't responsible, the fact that you were out there alone is worrisome. Do you normally have a place where you stay during the full moon?"

"I didn't kill anyone," he told her emphatically, "and I don't need to be locked up during the full moon. I take a potion that allows me control even in were-form. It prevents the dementia normally associated with the change."

"I wasn't aware a potion like that existed."

"It's not that well known." His critical eyes were intent upon her as he came to a decision. "I want to help you."

"Excuse me?"

"This thing, that's tearing up people- I want to help."

"Good."

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I'd love to hear what you think (hint, hint)!


	5. Where In Anya Meets The Nice Man Willow ...

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Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I wasn't too sure of this piece so it really helps… The PoV bounces a bit between the two parts so I'll apologize in advance for the incongruity and claim artistic license and all that…

Red Moon

by SJC

Willow studied the man sitting across from her over the rim of her coffee cup. A silence –not quite comfortable, as if any with a perfect stranger would be- had settled between the two after he had volunteered his help. What help he could be, she wasn't sure, but he held himself in the manner of a well-educated man, and given his nocturnal activities, she was betting his knowledge extended to the supernatural as well. Of course, the impression could have been gained solely by his voice. Too many years of listening to Giles must have caused her to subconsciously associate British accents with intelligence. 

He seemed like the quiet type, or perhaps it was simply the awkward situation that caused him to hold his tongue, meeting her eyes briefly before shifting more pancakes to his plate. If he was anything like Oz –and for a short irrational moment she found herself wishing desperately that he wasn't- his body would require large amounts of food to make up the energy lost during the change. 

He was a good-looking man she decided, with an air of subdued attractiveness, though that could be the accent again. She couldn't say his age exactly. He was younger then Giles, but still must have a decade on her. He had streaks of gray in his otherwise light hair and lines on his face, but they seemed to have been brought on more by stress then maturity. She could recognize the signs as easily as her reflection in a mirror, knowing firsthand how it felt to be forced to grow up much too young. 

She felt an odd empathy for the possible killer werewolf in front of her. It caught her a bit off guard, as she hadn't felt much other then grief or guilt for the past few months. She sent him a small, sad smile as he caught her staring. He had finished the meal and now pushed away his plate, as further indication.

"It's not that I'm not grateful for your friend's…. clothing, but perhaps now that we have settled both the matter of the previous night and our breakfast, I could return to my hotel and reclaim my possessions?" He broke the silence with his innocent query, asking more for the sake of politeness then for permission.

"I wouldn't quite consider the matter settled. If such a potion as you claim to take exists, and if you do in fact take it, what's to say you didn't make a conscious decision to kill those people? Just because I'm not making any accusations doesn't mean you aren't still on our list of suspects."

"Still, murderer or not, doesn't your country brag about no 'cruel or unusual punishment'? I hardly think I should be forced to wear… this," he gestured to the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt trying to lighten the mood, "for a crime we haven't even proven I've committed." 

"I don't know that I'd call that cruel..."

"Ah, but you don't argue that it's unusual."

"I'd never argue something of Xander's _was usual_." She gave a defeated sigh for show, really trying to suppress a grin, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to let you grab your own clothes, you might as well move it all over here."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" A smile teased about his lips, "I'm flattered, really."

"Don't be. It just makes more sense for you to stay here, rather then a hotel, at least until we get this mess sorted out. I'm afraid I can't simply take your word that you have control during the change and as we still have one more full moon to go…"

"I see. Well if I'm not to be flattered, should I at least be offended that you're not worried for your virtue? I mean, all supernatural pretenses aside… I could be some lecherous old man."

"I have a steel cage in my basement and you're worried about my _virtue_?" 

"Good point." He laughed, much too at ease with a woman who found him lying naked in said still cage only an hour earlier. 

"And I don't live here alone. One of my best friends –who, by the way, is incredibly capable of kicking your ass- and her sister live with me, and sadly you'd be far from the first abnormal guest we've sheltered, willingly or otherwise." 

He wondered at her last statement, but didn't have a chance to ask her for clarification.

"Willow?" 

"Speak of the demon…" she muttered under her breath as Anya entered the breakfast room. 

"Oh, there you are." She noticed the man sitting at the table and paused for a moment. "You have a guest. At nine in the morning. Who ate breakfast here. And is wearing Xander's clothes." she announced each observation as it came to her, "Oh! Well good for you, Willow. I mean, when you rebound you _really_ go to the other side of the court but still-"

"Remus, this is Anya. Anya," she interrupted the Vengeance Demon, "say 'hi' to the nice man I'm not sleeping with."

"Huh?" the blonde took a moment, "Oh. Hello." She turned her attention back to Willow, "I need to talk to you- preferably without the nice man you're not sleeping with in the room." Her eyes darted from Willow to said nice man and back again.

"If it's about the murder, he already knows."

"What if it's about…" Anya made an exaggerated twitching motion with her nose.

Willow rolled her eyes but still weighed the question. The man had done nothing to earn her trust or confidence, but she didn't want to leave him alone when he could escape either. She wasn't sure what she could actually do to stop him should he choose to, but she felt better at least keeping an eye on him. 

"Just tell me." She was painfully aware of the fact that Remus was watching their exchange with great interest.

"I found the spell I told you about. If we can get to the victim within 36 hours of it's death, we can perform a sort of magical autopsy on them. That gives us about five hours."

"You're a witch." He couldn't say he was too surprised, she had displayed far too much knowledge of the occult to be a muggle. The two ignored him however, continuing their conversation as if he hadn't interrupted.

"That doesn't leave us much time, did you get the supplies?"

"No, I need to stop by the Magic Box." 

"Ok, get the ingredients and meet me there." The blonde- Anya, he tried to remember- left and he was once again alone with the Willow. "So…" she turned her attention back to him, "who wants to go to the morgue?"

"The morgue?"

"You said you wanted to help."

"I did." he gave her a hard look, his previous assessment of an innocent young beauty forgotten, "I'm in. But can we at least stop by the hotel to get my wand?" 

* *

"You weren't joking." 

Remus turned around to find Willow staring at him, clearly dumbfounded.

"Excuse me?"

"When you said you wanted to get your wand, you were serious?" 

"Yes…" Remus wasn't quite sure where he lost her. She had admitted she was a witch and agreed to go to his hotel, for his part, he agreed to use muggle transportation. They had just arrived, he grabbed his wand… and somewhere along the process she must have lost her mind.

"You actually use a wand."

"Of course." He waved it a bit, uttering the proper incantation, and reclothed himself. It was still muggle attire, but the dark slacks and white button up shirt made him feel infinitely more like himself. 

"It seems so… stereotypical." She wrinkled her nose. She hated peoples image of witches and wizards and here was one of her own furthering it…

"I suppose, but then what do you use?" He tugged on each cuff a bit to straighten out his sleeves.

"Use?"

"If you don't use a wand, what do you use to channel your magic through?"

"I don't channel it through anything. I don't need to. Is there something in your wand to amplify it, or is it just for focusing that you use it?" She seemed genuinely curious.

"A bit of both I suppose, I'm ashamed to say as much as I know about what to do with a wand, I don't know much about how it works. Are you saying you didn't go to any school of wizardry?" 

Even muggles had some magic, just not in a great enough quantity to become a wizard. It was far from uncommon for some to learn to do a few simple spells, but they'd never be able to do much more then party tricks. He wondered if he had overestimated the girl. 

"I was self taught mainly, but I did study control with a coven for a bit." She left out the fact that she studied it after she truly needed it. "As fascinating as your wand may be," the memories their talk of magic stirred up were the only things that kept the blush off of her face, "we have an appointment at the morgue."

Remus decided to let the matter drop, but he would make sure to pursue it later, though he had an unsettling feeling that he was more interested in pursuing _her_. He had learned long ago that it was best for everyone if he avoided romantic entanglements, and now of all times it'd be beyond imbecilic to get distracted- but what a distraction she would be. 

His feelings weren't all that complicated. They were actually fairly reasonable. She was absolutely beautiful, simply put. It didn't run any deeper then that. The moment he had woke, naked and dirty, he had been floored by a vision of brilliant red hair and bright, clear eyes peering down at him. He might have found her striking in passing her by on a street, but to be confronted by such loveliness after living so long in a world completely devoid of it… -he couldn't say he'd stumbled across much grace trying to dig up information from Sunnydale scum and long before that the wizarding society had given up on him- well it caught him off guard. 

But easy to understand or not, his feelings were dangerous. His attraction was certainly superficial and shallow, but it was no less real and no less deadly. That was something he'd simply have to remember.

***

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Do a little dance… make a little love… review tonight ::disco points:: review tonight!


	6. The Subject Of Willow’s Lack Of Bedroom ...

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Sorry this took **forever** to get out! ::Ducks from rotten vegetables:: I just really didn't like this chapter and didn't want to write it but I couldn't do much else with the fic until I did. All I can say is hopefully I'll be better with updates in the future! Thanks for all the reviews…truthfully, this may never have gotten done if it wasn't for y'alls prods! Enjoy!

Red Moon

By SJC

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The Subject Of Willow's Lack Of Bedroom Activity Becomes Repetitive

"It's really much too bright and sunny to be entering a morgue," Remus remarked in that dry tone she was beginning to suspect was characteristic of all Brits, "especially with our purpose."

She threw him a smile –the cheerful smile another scene out of place- as she entered through the door he held for her. 

"Would something along the lines of 'dark and stormy' be more to your taste?" She teased, though he was much too caught up in the sound of her voice to process her words. He returned her smile and hoped that it was an appropriate reaction.

The reception area, pitiful as it was, was utterly deserted. The last threads of an adventurous nature that lingered in him despite everything he had seen, was mildly disappointed that no clever plan would be needed to bypass a curious mortician. As it was, they merely walked towards the back (he followed her lead as she seemed disturbingly familiar with the building) through a set of swing doors and into the cold chill of the body storage room. The blonde he had met earlier was already present, sitting on an examining table, her legs swinging slightly. 

"Oh, you brought your friend." Anya hopped off the table. "Still not sleeping together?"

Willow ignored the question, knowing by now that the vengeance demon liked to use the human-only-for-a-moment card to get away with embarrassing her. "Did you get everything?"

"Yup, it's all set up." She led them further into the room to where a ring of candles was set up close to the wall. "No offense," Anya told him as she settled herself on the floor, "But three people is kind of overkill for this spell. Do you want to take a walk or something?"

"Actually, I'd like to watch- if it's alright with you?" He directed the question to Willow who nodded her consent. 

The two girls went about the final preparations, lighting candles and eventually pulling the drawer containing the victim's body out of the wall so it was suspended about their circle. Once everything met her approval, Willow settled herself on the floor opposite Anya, sitting close enough for their knees to barely brush. She murmured her invocations quietly to herself before letting her eyes rest on the book laid out between them. She gathered her power, pulling both from herself and from the constant life stream engulfing her. Using the words of the spell as a focus, and Anya's presence as an anchor, she released herself into the magic. The rush was sudden, euphoric and enveloping, eliciting an involuntary gasp. It was with great reluctance she pulled back and let the energy slip away, once sure her purpose was accomplished. 

Both girls opened their eyes at the same time, and together they stared at the strange symbols appearing on the young victim's skin. 

"What does it mean?" Willow finally asked.

"It means," Anya began after deciphering the ancient runes, "that your supernatural buddy here is off the hook. Whatever did this wasn't a creature of magic."

After their somewhat unexpected discovery, the three quickly disbanded the makeshift casting circle. Willow cautioned they do it quickly before a morgue worker found them, to which Anya replied cryptically 'Don't worry- he won't.' The odd statement made Remus question if it was indeed, luck that eased their chore, as he had initially believed. 

Once the cold storage room was returned to its previous state, the trio was at a loss as to what exactly they should do next. Willow suggested they spend the time looking for similar attacks happening recently. Anya suggested they go to lunch, apparently her appetite was unaffected by the sickly smell of the freshly preserved corpses around her. Remus, still not feeling quite comfortable with the people he had only met a few hours earlier, was quite diplomatic in offering that they pick up something to eat while they research. The simplistic and somewhat obvious solution coming from the rather good-looking British man had the two girls privately swooning.

*

"So, " Anya sat on the edge of the breakfast room table, next to stacks of books Willow had spread out. A carton of Chinese take out was in one hand, a pair of chopsticks (to which she was attempting to use seductively) was perched in the other. Her full attention was on Remus. "What exactly brought you to Sunnydale? Visiting a girlfriend?"

Willow snorted at Anya's attempt at subtly. Her flirtatious behavior might have annoyed Willow at one point, but lately she had been beginning to understand the born-again vengeance demon. Now, for instance, it was obvious that despite however attractive the foreign werewolf was, Anya's flirting was a product of sheer boredom and no actual interest. Unfortunately for Remus's sake, he didn't have the luxury of knowing the blonde's fondness for shock value and choked on a mouthful of fried rice. 

"Uh, no, no girlfriend," he managed to spit out once he could breathe again. "I'm actually here to do some investigating, trying to dig up some information. Something bad is coming, we just don't know when or what it is." He knew his answer seemed pitifully vague, but there wasn't much else he could say.

"Then you can feel it too?" Willow looked up from the book she was skimming through and quoted softly, "'From beneath you it devours'."

"Looks like we're in the same boat as you. We know its bad, and we know its coming… but that's all we know." Anya threw her chopsticks down into the carton, hunger no longer seeming a priority. The subject had been tired out over the past few weeks since Willow returned, and yet no new information seemed forthcoming. The entire thing kept sending her the oddest sense of de ja vu, and yet she couldn't place what it reminded her of. 

"We've been over every book here," which was no small feat, considering the amount of Gile's private library he left here for them, "and didn't find anything. But maybe we missed something, so feel free to take a look." Willow shrugged, trying to be cooperative but there wasn't much they could offer.

"I'd like to," he told her, his voice holding more hope then her own, but perhaps that was due more to the seemingly beginning of an alliance with the odd pair then any real chance of locating the answer in an old book. 

The rest of the morning passed in a comfortable silence, broken only by random complaints and/or declarations from Anya. Remus found himself at home surrounded by the dusty tomes, reminding him of his days at Hogwarts. Willow, in turn, found herself a kindred spirit in the ex-professor. His studious nature was similar to her own and his manner reminded her of Giles, but his boyish smile banished any fatherly-figure thoughts to the farthest recesses of her mind. She mentally scolded herself. She was recovering from an addiction to dark magic, a new bigger badder menace was on the way, not to mention the major trust issues she had with men- now was definitely not the time to start re-questioning her sexuality. 

They hadn't moved much when Buffy found them after she and Dawn arrived home from the school. Anya sat idly flipping through something that looked suspiciously more like a Cosmo magazine then a reference book, Remus was absorbed in a particularly fascinating passage, and Willow was trying to simultaneously read, sneak glances at him, and berate herself for becoming distracted at the same time. 

"Hey." She broke the silence and all three heads looked up to greet her. Her face crinkled with the signs of confusion as she noticed the man sitting close to her best friend. "Is he-"

"No." Anya answered her as she returned to her magazine.

"Excuse me?" Buffy's forehead wrinkled even further.

"He's not sleeping with Willow." Anya yawned after she announced the fact, clearly showing what she thought about the situation.

"Well that's… good to know, but actually I was wondering if he was the werewolf that I tranqued last night." This time, learning from her mistakes, she directed her query to Willow.

"Yes, Buffy, but we've pretty much ruled him out. Anya and I performed a spell earlier that ruled out supernatural causes of death. I checked around too, and there haven't been anymore victims killed with that MO found recently." Willow pushed the book she had been using away from her, stretching her arms above her head. The action revealed a small expanse of pale skin as her shirt rode up, a fact Remus was painfully aware of.

"I'm going to go- ah, get another book." He told the girls, completely oblivious to the mini-swoon his voice provoked, and giving them a chance to discuss him less awkwardly. He was browsing through an encyclopedia on vegetarian demons, trying to buy some time when a young man entered the room. Remus was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed at the sheer amount of new people, but it was a bit comforting to finally find another male. Remus never had many women friends when he was younger, and later in life he hadn't had many friends period. Events, and his affliction, hadn't really allowed it. Still, he tried to pull himself from his reverie, now wasn't exactly a good time to form relationships either. 

"Hello." He greeted the man who seemed a bit taken back at his presence. He received a short reply before the new comer dashed to the kitchen. Remus followed behind at his own pace.

"So yeah… British guy in our living room, anybody got an explanation?" Xander questioned the group gathered in the kitchen. 

"He's not sleeping with Willow," Buffy offered.

"I'm going to go with 'Huh?' on that one." Confusion seemed the dominant emotion of the day.

Remus chose that moment to reclaim his spot by Willow's side. "Your friends seem awfully fond of discussing your sex life." 

"Actually," she corrected him, "they just like discussing the lack there of."

Somehow, Buffy, Dawn, and Xander were finally caught up on what they had missed… which disappointedly wasn't much. The group was quite flexible though, as any in their positions would have to be to survive, so with one final outburst from Xander "He'll never take Gile's place!" they quickly adapted to the new situation.

__

'I like re-views and I cannot lie- all you other brother's can't deny…'

****
    
    BUTTCAKE!


	7. Where Proved That A Slip Of Tongue May C...

__

I'm such a liar… don't believe a thing I say. But for those gullible enough to still trust me, I actually do plan to finish this thing soon…

Red Moon

By SJC

It was time. 

After tirelessly stalking her oblivious prey, the opening she was waiting for finally presented itself. She watched as the subject of her hunt excused itself from the group and foolishly went off on its own. She followed noiselessly and before the opportunity could be wasted pounced.

"Alright, Will, spill."

Her startled victim dropped the drink in her hand and spun around to face her hunter.

"If you meant spill my drink, mission accomplished." She tore a few paper towels off the roll and bent down to wipe up the mess. 

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it." Buffy glanced back through the doorway into the living room to make sure the others weren't paying them any attention, and then pushed her farther into the kitchen. "What's going on?"

"Are you feeling ok?" Willow questioned and tried to place a hand against her friend's forehead, but it was swatted away.

"With you and Remus, what's going on?" 

Willow groaned as she finally recognized what Buffy's odd behavior meant- she had gone into gossip mode. "There's nothing going on."

"There's something going on, alright. I know there is because there's a little too much of nothing going on." The blonde nodded along with her statement, put on her best I'm-not-going-away-until-you-give-me-all-the-dirt-so-you-better-start-now face and waited confidently.

"What is that supposed to even mean? I don't know what you're talking about." Willow shifted uneasily, the first sign of her weakening. She was eyeing the door contemplating her chances of making a run for it when Anya walked through it.

"What's going on? Oh! Has Willow dished about the Remus-thing yet?" 

With the two persistent blondes united, the redhead felt outnumbered and caged. They could feel it too, as they worked together to back her into a corner.

"We're your friends, Willow, it hurts when you keep things from us." Buffy pouted, playing good-friend.

Anya didn't hesitate for a moment to take up the role as bad-friend. "You're not getting out of here until you tell us what we want to know. So you can either volunteer it, or we can do it the hard way." 

"No, Anya… I mean, if she feels she can't trust us…" 

"Gah!" Willow threw up her hands frustrated. "I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work on me." She eyed the two girls warily as they kept silent. "It's not." 

"Willow," Buffy was the picture of wide-eyed innocence as she took a step closer, "We're not trying to do anything. We just want you to talk to us." 

"Talk about what?" She sighed defeated.

"We could start with why after being so chummy with our new favorite Brit for the past few days, you're suddenly avoiding him like the plague."

"And why you blush every time you look at him." Anya chimed in. "Did something happen between you two?"

Willow fidgeted in place nervously. "Sort of," she finally admitted, "but you can't tell anyone!" She looked at them sternly. "I mean it's nothing. It wasn't even really with him. I mean it was but it wasn't because I don't think he knows it was with him, you know?" She questioned in one long breath.

"You had a sex dream!" Anya deciphered the jumbled message. 

"No! No I did not." She denied immediately, then paused. "Ok, maybe I did." She hung her head, ashamed. 

"Willow," Buffy laughed, "was that all it was? It's not that big of a deal. You can't control what your subconscious dreams about."

"It's nothing to be ashamed about." Anya agreed, "This one time, I had this dream about Giles and he had this leather-"

"Stop!" Buffy and Willow covered their ears. 

"Please promise me you will never, ever finish that story." 

"Fine." Anya huffed, "I don't know why you both are so uptight." Her attention settled back onto Willow. "So, was he any good?"

"It was a dream, Anya. It wasn't real." 

"Buffy's dreams come true."

"It was just a bad mixture of hormones and ice-cream before bed, not exactly in the same league as her slayer dreams. Let's just forget about it."

"But you can't, can you?" Buffy reentered the conversation, "That's why you've been acting all wiggy around him. You have naughty flashbacks every time you see him, don't you?"

"No!" She paused. "Alright, maybe. Since when did my sex life become so fascinating to you?"

"Are you kidding? My best friend thinking about changing teams? This is huge!"

"What? No team-changing for me! I'm gay. I'm more then gay, I'm like super gay!" The blonde girls shared a look. "Really. It was just one stupid dream that didn't mean anything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get back to work." And with that she fled into the relative safety of the living room.

Remus's head came up to watch her reenter the room, and he sent her a smile as she moved to sit in a chair across the table from him. She briefly found herself thinking of frying pans and raging infernos before she forced herself to look away. She pulled her book closer to her and tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were still on her. But it wasn't until later, when their hands brushed as they reached for the same book and she quickly pulled hers back a safe distance from his touch that he spoke up. 

"Willow, did I do something?"

"Excuse me?" She appealed to whatever deity was listening that she could somehow avoid a second interrogation in one afternoon, but she had the distinct feeling she wouldn't be so lucky. 

"Have I somehow offended you?" 

"No, no, of course not." She tried to give him a reassuring smile but one glance at his face had her panicking and she ducked her head to hide her blush.

"If I've said something or done something to upset you-"

"No. You haven't. You're fine. I mean, you've been great. It's not you." She closed her eyes and damned again the one stupid dream that caused this whole mess. Unfortunately, all it did was serve to bring it back to her mind in vivid detail. Her eyes flew open and she forced herself to make eye contact with him. "Really, it's nothing. I just didn't get much sleep last night."

Buffy and Anya who had deliberately scooted closer to observe the interaction snickered into the books they were pretending to read. 

"Oh. Is this some sort of…" he broke off, not sure how to phrase it, "girl thing?"

Buffy choked on her laughter and Anya gave up all pretense of not watching.

"No!" Willow exclaimed, once more surprised at the streak of sheer idiocy present in every male regardless of his intellect. Then when she realized he had actually given her an easy out, she changed her statement. "Actually, it sort of is. I'd rather not really talk about it."

"Ah, good. I mean, that's no problem. I'll just, um, go get another book." He made his retreat as fast as politeness would allow and Willow slumped into her seat, equally relieved.

"Oh, that was hilarious." Buffy wiped her eyes that had started to tear from laughing so hard.

"I'm glad my suffering amuses someone." Willow spit out bitterly.

"Aw, poor Willow. You know, you could always just tell him the truth." She said, sitting on the arm of the redhead's chair and putting her arm around her friend.

"How would humiliating myself further help matters any?" She asked.

"I think Buffy's right," Anya agreed, "A good shag would probably solve more of your problems then you realize."

"What? Are you insane? I don't think sleeping with him- or anyone for that matter, is a good idea for me right now. Besides, I don't even think of him like that. "

"Willow, I don't know if you're happy in denial land or what, but face facts. Obviously you do think of him that way or you wouldn't have had that dream. And this definitely wouldn't have upset you so much if you weren't attracted to him. If you really didn't care you would have been able to laugh it off. Truthfully, I've never seen you this worked up about a dream before."

"Alright. Maybe there's a teensy eensy little speck inside of me that's mildly attracted to him. But that's it. Besides, now isn't exactly a good time for anyone to get involved. We don't need to deal with anymore complications." 

"I know." She tightened her arm around her friend in a half hug. "I just worry about you is all. I just want to see you happy again."

"Thanks, Buffy, but starting something right now with anybody just isn't smart."

"I uh, found the book." Remus broke in as he entered the room, feeling slightly less uncomfortable then when he left. 

"Good. Gosh, I wonder where Xander is. He should have been back by now." Buffy said, motioning with her eyes to Anya.

"Oh, yeah. I hope he's all right. Maybe we better both go look for him." Anya said a little too loudly and winked at the slayer. Their devious plan was completely transparent to the witch being left behind, and she glared at them as they made their escape.

"Just-"

"Ignore them?" Remus finished her sentence for her. She nodded once.

"You're starting to catch on." She smiled at him, starting to finally put the dream behind her as they settled into a comfortable silence and resumed their research.

Meanwhile, Anya and Buffy had run into Xander not three feet from the door and quickly spun him around, starting to walk him away from the house.

"Uh, where are we going?" He questioned.

"Away, so that Willow and Remus can have a chance to talk."

"Why do they need to talk?" He asked, not any less confused.

"Willow had a sex dream." Anya butted in.

"What?" He yelped.

"I think she really likes him, but she's too damn stubborn to admit it. I just want them to have some time alone to work through this." Buffy explained.

"This is Willow we're talking about. If you leave them there for a year, you really think anything is going to happen? Besides, what about the British guy that's factoring pretty heavily into your plan. Does he even have any idea what's going on?"

The two girls exchanged a look.

"Well, we hadn't really gotten that far. But we know he likes her…"

"And that's about the only thing you do know about him!" He sighed and tried to calm himself down. "This isn't one of your little romantic movies. This is our friend and some guy we know nothing about. We hadn't even met him until a few days ago. I know focusing on this feels a lot better then thinking about the mega-evil that keeps frustrating us, but I won't allow you to sacrifice Willow just because you two don't feel like facing our sucky reality right now."

"Xander, she's my best friend too. You're way off. I'm not using her as some sort of distraction. You're right when you say I'd rather deal with this then the fact that we have no leads on our current big bad, but I wouldn't do anything if I wasn't sure. Remus is a good man; I get a really good vibe from him. And I honestly believe that even with all the bad around us, or maybe because of it, he could give Willow some real happiness. And she so deserves it; you know what she's been through. I only wish she would stop being so damn reasonable and just go for what she wants."

"Buffy, you didn't just…" Xander closed his eyes as Buffy's widened with sickening realization.

"Anya- I didn't mean-" Buffy tried to take back the last sentence she had uttered but it was too late. Anya's demon visage had slid on and she gave a sheepish shrug.

"Done." 


End file.
